Smile
by rubydesires
Summary: The only way to protect yourself is to hide away. Show only anger to the world. But you still have a heart. And it still bleeds. Sometimes, the only thing needed to heal it, is a smile. A Kitty and Beej story. CHAPTER 3 IS UP!
1. Prologue

**AN:**I know, I know. I've got four other stories in the works, and here I am starting another one. But I've gotta do some research for Eternity and Together Forever. And I'm just not feeling Untouched. Then Al Gets Glomped doesn't have a clear direction, so it's hard to write the next chapter. This story is rated M because of swearing, blood, and touchy subjects. I don't know if it'll end up a romance. Probably, since they are married.

* * *

"But, babes, ya can't leave!" He couldn't believe this was happening. But there she was, packing her last box.

"I'm sorry, Beej. I have to." The goth refused to look at him. She was afraid of what she would see in those unnatural green eyes.

"Lyds, we're best friends." She couldn't leave him. She couldn't!

Lydia twisted the simple gold band on her ring finger. Had it really only been three years since the incident? She was only sixteen when she had first met him. When she had made a deal with him. He'd save the Maitlands from that fat idiot, Otho, and she'd marry him. If it weren't for that sandworm, she'd be his wife instead of best friend now. He had returned about four months after that. The Powers That Be had made him come and apologize. He didn't, of course. As he had said, he held up his part of the deal. Lydia knew he was right, and had apologized to him for getting eaten by a sandworm. He had gallantly said he'd been through worse. She had asked him what. Thus beginning their odd friendship.

Now she was leaving. Her family was moving back to New York. She for school, and her parents because they didn't think they would be able to stay in a "haunted" house without her.

"I'm sorry, Betelgeuse." It was a whisper, but she knew he heard her just fine. She loved being with him, but she couldn't do it anymore.

"Lydia." It was just as soft.

"No, Betelgeuse." Just one more time, and he'd be banished to the Neitherworld. She didn't know why she loved being with him. He was a dirty, peverted, con man, and he constantly chased skirts, drank, and smoked. Not to mention he knew every whore in the Neitherworld by their real names. She was rather surprised he hadn't done any more than the occasional kiss to her.

And he was violent.

He had no qualms about spilling blood. The only reason he didn't murder was he didn't want to waste time recovering from the punishment. Once, he had told her about his time in the Lost Souls Room. He was able to escape, but it took a few weeks, and about a month afterwards until he was completely recovered.

She had had to stop him several times before a prank on Claire Brewster went too far. He didn't seem to understand if her rival was put into extensive care, the police would come for her. And she wouldn't be able to tell them a poltergeist did it. They'd lock her up in the mental hospital and drug her.

Lydia taped the box and finally looked at the poltergeist. He was so sad. Like a lost puppy. Or a lost rabid puppy who wants to rip your thoat out.

"Don't, Lyds. Please?"

He never said please. But what scared her was the fact he meant it. He didn't want her to leave. She didn't want to leave. But she had to. She couldn't do this anymore.

Lydia closed the distance between them, slipping the ring off her finger. She stood up on the balls of her feet, and brushed her lips against his. As she pressed the ring into his hand, she whispered "Goodbye, Betelgeuse."

There. She had banished him to the Neitherworld. Hopefully, he wasn't too pissed when someone summoned him again.

Lydia wiped away the tears that fell when he left. She threw a black sheet over the vanity. No way was she going to take it with her. It was basically her phone to the Neitherworld.

The goth left her former bedroom and shut the door behind her before turning to the resident ghosts.

"Well, how did he take it?"

Lydia turned to look at Adam Maitland. He had his arm around his wife, Barbara.

"Not how I thought he would. "

"What do you mean," Barbara asked.

The young woman shrugged. "I think he was too shocked to really do anything."

She hoped he didn't do anything drastic once the shock wore off.

* * *

**AN:** There we go! It's mostly movie-verse, but it's got cartoon-verse in it, too.


	2. Chapter 1

**AN:** Look, two chapters at once. Woot!

* * *

Fifteen years later, the Wrights moved into the house on the hill. Well, technically, three Wrights and one Rutledge. Kylie stood in the front yard, looking up at the house, the buds of her headphones in her ears, but her iPod was off. She had wanted to listen to the movers . . . gossip, but none of the men were chatting. They'd unload her family's possessions, take them into the house, and come back out to the truck for more.

Her hands were in their usual place: the front pockets of her boot cut blue jeans. Her black baby-tee read "Bite me" in white letters, and the white on her red converse were decorated with skulls she had drawn herself. The choker she wore was a chain with a black ribbon thread through the links, and it had a silver dragon with a crystal for a pendent. Her parents didn't mind if it was her style. As long as she didn't hurt herself, they were happy. As happy as parents with a child who had mental diseases could be.

Kylie wanted to laugh at them. She didn't have "problems", as everybody liked to call it. They just didn't want to believe. She'd play along . . . until they made her take medication. Then she'd start fighting back. But she'd been "clean" for a few months now.

She was going to start her senior year in a few weeks. Oh, right. She was supposed to be angry with her parents. She thought she was going to finally finish at the same school she started. But no. Her parents just had to get a job in freakin' New York, and for some crazy ass reason move the fam to Winter River, Connecticut. What the fuck was up with that?

Her mother appeared at her side. Kylie cast her a glance out of the corner of her eye. Her shoulder length dark brown hair was dusted with silver, most of it in the front and at her temples, and she stood about two inches below her daughter. But when they were sitting next to each other, Kylie was much shorter. Most of Kylie's five-foot-seven height was in her legs. She had gotten that from her blood father. Annette's light blue eyes met her daughter's blue-grey, and she smiled. It was a tired smile, one Kylie was used to.

"What?" Kylie finally asked.

"What do you think?"

"It's a house."

Her smile faded. Why must her daughter be like that? She could remember when the girl constantly smiled, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, as it were. Now she never smiled, and Annette couldn't remember the last time the girl laughed. No, she could remember. It was before the divorce. Kylie had taken it hard, turning cold almost overnight. A seven year old child shouldn't be glaring and brooding. They were supposed to be smiling and laughing. Now she was seventeen, and not much had changed.

"Fine, Kylie. Just go inside and see what you can do with your room."

"Which one is mine?"

"Second floor, last one on the left."

Kylie nodded, turning on her iPod, and made her way into the house. Seeing the interior design, she scowled. It was all . . . grey! Looked like freakin' granite. But, if she was to be honest with herself, she liked it better than the all white house she just left. Seriously, how boring could they be?

Ignoring everything but her music (currently playing Famous Last Words by My Chemical Romance), Kylie walked up the stairs, and down the hall to the last door on the left. Her eye brows shot up when she opened the door. The top half of the walls were a dark purple, and the bottom half were black wood paneling. Her bare full bed was pushed into the corner, and her dresser on the wall across from it, next to a large window covered with dark drapes. That was all her furniture, except the drapes, but that was all she needed. Kylie walked into the room, closing the door behind her and looked for the closet. She found it on the wall that ran along the long side of her bed. The girl walked over to it, opening the door. Her brows shot up even higher. It was a walk-in closet! She'd have tons of space now! Nodding her approval, she turned and saw the piece of furniture that wasn't hers tucked between her dresser and the wall. Intrigued, she made her way to the object, walking on the balls of her feet. She tilted her head, and pulled the black sheet off, finding her reflection. Her dark-honey brown hair fell in a waving mess around her face, and her blue-grey eyes, outlined by pure black, long lashes stared back at her. Kylie left her reflection to look at the white vanity. It had three drawers beneath the oval mirror. She'd find some use for it.

Kylie had just finished putting her dark red sheets and comforter on her bed, and was currently stuffing her pillows into their cases.

"Do you think she'll be able to see us?"

Kylie froze at the female voice. She was supposed to hear them in her head, not in her ears. She hit the pause button on her iPod through her jeans, and listened for the voice again. But now that she was paying attention, she definitely knew someone was in her room.

"I don't think so, Barbara."

Male voice that time.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Kylie asked without turning around.

"Wait, you can hear us?" Barbara asked.

"Of course, I can," she replied with a sneer, and resumed her pillow stuffing.

"Oh. Well, I'm Barbara Maitland, and this is my husband, Adam."

Kylie tossed her pillows on her bed and looked over her shoulder, her eyes cold, as she took in the ghosts. They looked like they had died during the eighties. Barbara wore a white casual dress with pink floral print, white slipper-shoe type things, and she had curly, shoulder-length brown hair. Her husband had short light brown hair, simple glasses, a red plaid shirt, tan dress pants, and brown shoes.

"What do you want," she asked again.

Barbara shot a nervous glance at her husband before returning her attention to Kylie. "We just wanted to meet you."

"I'm Kylie. My mom's Annette, my step-dad is Mike, and my little brother is Zach. Before you ask, I'm the only one who can see or hear you."

"Okay. Well, we live in the attic, so if you ever want to talk, just come up there." They left, just walking through the door before Kylie had the chance to say anything else.

"Great," she muttered moving to her boxes of clothes. "I've get to live with ghosts."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

They were eating pizza for dinner. Kylie barely listened to the conversation between her parents as she ate her second slice of sausage and pineapple pizza.

"Did you figure out why we got the house for so cheap?" Mike asked in his Tennessean accent.

"They said the place was haunted so no one wanted to move in," Annette replied, her Michigan accent not nearly as alien in this new place as Mike's was.

"If they wanna be stupid superstitious bastards . . ."

"But it is," Kylie said, and immediately wished she could kick herself for being so stupid.

Her family stared at her, silent, before her mother stood up and went into the kitchen. When she came back, she set a pill on Kylie's plate.

"I don't want to," Kylie said, staring at the freakin' horse pill like it was going to bite her.

"Take the goddamn pill, Kylie," Mike growled.

"But—"

"_Do it_."

Kylie picked up the pill, put it in the back of her mouth, and took a swig of her soda to swallow it.

She wanted to cry.

* * *

**AN:** This is Kitty . . . in case you didn't know. I think Beej will be in the next chapter. Which might be up tomorrow. If I have time to work on it.


	3. Chapter 2

**AN: **Okay. I'm not entirely sure I like the end. Meh. Thanks to RennC, PixieJenn, Antonio, fantcfan, and Eris for the reviews! *looks around* Where's Crow? This story has his girl in it . . . Mayhaps I need to tell him about it . . . .

* * *

Annette had long since given up on trying to have a conversation with her daughter will she was on the medication. At the best of times, she was like one of her porcelain dolls. Empty. Only moving because she had to. Other times, she would lash out at anyone for anything. And then there were the nightmares. Once those started, they would stop the medication, since the drugs made the dreams worse.

Annette glanced at her daughter while they were at a stop light. Kylie hadn't moved since she had gotten her in the car. Her hands were resting in her lap, her long fingers curled over her palms, as her body leaned away from the door. She stared out the windshield, but her mother knew she wasn't seeing anything.

The car ride to New York was a quiet one. As were all the car rides with her daughter. They were going to meet her new psychiatrist. He was supposed to be good, but Annette doubted it.

No one managed to do anything for Kylie. All they ever said was her daughter had schizophrenia, and the only thing that would work for it was medication. It was supposed to make her better, but all it did was turn her into a husk. There wasn't anything on the inside. Perhaps that was a good thing, though. Kylie could never draw while she was medicated. Her hands wouldn't work right.

Her daughter was to start school on Monday. Today was Friday, so giving her two days without the drugs should give her enough time to recover enough to go. But that depended on the new doctor.

~*~*~*~*~*

"Kylie, the doctor will see you now."

Annette held her breath as the faintest flicker of anger showed in her daughter's eyes. It disappeared just as quickly, and the teen stood, following the redhead.

It had taken her parents a few years before they realized Kylie reacted better to these meetings when she talked to the psychiatrist by herself. So Annette stayed in the waiting room and continued reading.

Kylie kept her face blank, her mind locked behind the walls she had learned to build to keep her sane. She was very much aware of what the drugs did to her body. She could almost swear she could feel the threads of her life unraveling at the end, shortening her life. She knew when she forgot something, even though it happened not more than five minutes ago. That was what she hated the most. The memory loss and the shortened life expectancy. It made her feel as if her life was restricted to a slim window of time. With nothing to show for it.

But she'd only have to wait a few more days before she could draw again. Kylie had been in the middle of one before her "relapse".

The teen carefully kept her face neutral as the redhead opened the office door for her and motioned her inside. Her head down, Kylie sat in the plush red armchair in front of the desk. Couldn't shrinks be original? Why not a black chair? Or purple?

"Good morning, Kylie."

Kylie glanced up at the male voice. "What's up, doc?" she said, her voice flat. The teen quickly took in the room and her new doctor, her eyes flicking to land on everything. It was a typical shrink's office. Dark bookshelves filled with books (boring, no doubt) lined the walls. Framed ink blots on the wall where available. Finally, she stopped on her doctor. God he was fat. Black hair slicked back, probably dyed, and he wore a black suit, black tie, and white button down shirt. He smiled, his eyes disappearing in the fat of his face. Kylie kept her face blank.

"You can call me Otho," he said after the short silence. Otho flipped through the file on his desk. "Now, it says here you suffer from schizophrenia, and you take Trilofan for it. Correct?" He waited for her response, but she didn't offer anything. "Very well, Miss Kylie. How about we simply get to know each other? What are your interests?"

Silence.

Otho's smile faltered. "Where do you live?"

"Winter River."

Kylie took a deliciously evil glee when the man paled.

"Where in Winter River?"

"The house on the hill."

She blinked when he stood up abruptly and took her arm, hauling her back to the waiting room. When her mother saw them, she stood too, worry on her face.

"Mrs. Wright, how about next Saturday? Same time?" He smiled while he asked, but Kylie could hear the sudden fear in his voice. There was something at her new house that scared the shit outta this guy. Hopefully, she could keep her stuff together in order to remember it.

"Um, of course," Annette replied, her gaze flicking from Otho to her daughter.

Kylie slipped out of his hold and stood before him. She bowed slightly, glad she decided to wear her dark red tank top, and smirked. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Otho," she said quietly. The teen wanted to laugh at the sudden panic in his eyes. After they had flicked back to her face, of course. This was fun! She loved these random bouts of lucidity.

"Okay, Kylie," her mother said, taking her daughter's arm. "We have to go get your uniforms."

Kylie looked at her mother, then back at Otho, brow furrowed. "Mama-chan, where am I?"

"Sweetheart, we're at the doctor's. Now we have to go get your uniforms for school. Okay?"

Kylie nodded, her face once more turning into a doll's, and she let her mother lead her away.

~*~*~*~*~*

He didn't even bother cleaning up anymore. When the bastards woke up, they could deal with it. He just wanted to make 'em bleed.

Fifteen fuckin' years. Just makin' 'em fuckin' bleed.

And now he was bored. What was the point anymore? Sure, he liked doing things for himself, but it was since to have someone to tell about it. Swap ideas, that kinda shit.

"Not the fuck anymore," he muttered, slamming open the door to the Roadhouse. "Not since Lyds fuckin' bailed on me." He kicked the door closed behind him.

He glanced at the couch. He didn't wanna sit. He wanted to _do_ something! Naw, he just wanted fuckin' _Out_! But that required a breather stupid—

He jerked to a stop at the sudden fire running down his spine. Someone was summoning him. What luck!

"Showtime!" Betelgeuse grinned as the summoning pulled him through the worlds.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Kylie dropped her towel on the floor, not caring that it was wet, and slipped into her short, red, silky robe. The medication wasn't wearing off, but bubble baths had always helped her regain lucidity for a little while. And since she wasn't use to the new bathroom yet, the adrenaline was still pumping from her irrational fear of bathrooms.

Something had scared Otho earlier that day, and she was fighting to bring that memory back. Kylie picked up the paper she had found in her closet and fell in her bed. There were tons of words on it, but most of them were scratched out. The last line said "_If you ever feel like killing yourself say Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice._" But Kylie didn't want to kill herself. So she read the first bit that got scratched out.

_If you ever feel like you're alone, like no one could ever understand, and all you need is a friend who doesn't care that you're not like everybody else then say Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice._

It was corny, but that was why she liked it.

"Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice," she said softly.

~*~*~*~*~*

When Betelgeuse rematerialized and realized he was in _her_ room, his good mood instantly vanished, and his grin was replaced with a scowl. He was gonna fuckin' _slaughter_ some . . . body . . . .

"Stupid piece of paper," he heard her say, tossing said paper to the side. Damn, if the hem of that robe was up just a couple more inches . . . . She sighed, rolling over onto her back, and Betelgeuse silently cursed his luck as he, once again, just needed it a few inches higher. Her eyes were closed, arms lying above her head.

Damn, she could feel herself slipping. These moments were harder to come by and harder to hold on to. There was _something_ she wanted to remember . . . and now she couldn't even remember why she wanted to remember it in the first place. This was so goddamn _frustrating_!

"Fuckin' cocktease."

Kylie's eyes flew open, and she bolted upright.

The . . . _thing_ before her stared at her.

And his eyes were nowhere _near_ hers.

"Now _that's _what I'm talkin' about!"

Kylie looked down at herself and yelped, clutching her robe closed, and twisted her legs under her. "Pervert!" she spat.

"Hey now, kitten, ya can't be blamin' a guy fer admirin' the view," he replied, holding his hands up defensively.

She glared him, his black and white striped suit dirty and rumpled, wild hair a pale blond and almost green at the roots. Kylie's eye twitched as she noticed green patches on his temple and neck. His skin was deathly pale, black circles around his eyes. Eyes that had yellow whites, and irises of bright green. Eyes that had more than a glint of insanity. Eyes that were most likely undressing her.

Shit.

* * *

**AN:** *shrugs* There we go . . .


	4. Chapter 3

**AN:** See, I'm cranking out the chapters for you since I was gone for so long. Again, thanks to my reviewers. I'll start listing you again in the next chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This is a line~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Betelgeuse couldn't remember the last time he had been engaged in a pillow fight. Therefore it had taken him some time to realize what the fuck just happened and how the hell he was to respond when he found his pale blond head assaulted by a pillow. However, as soon as he _did_ figure it out, an all out war between the two ensued. It had gotten to the point where he managed to get his little kitten backed into the corner. She had then proceeded to form some defenses consisting of a wall made from her comforter, sheets, and stuffed animals. She also took the smaller pillows and threw them at him. Until she ran out, and Betel refused to use them against her. Thus resulting in a stalemate. She glared at him from her fort, and he simply floated on his back, arms behind his head and legs crossed. He had stayed like that until he noticed she had fallen asleep. Since he didn't feel like exploring, Betel sank to the floor, and sat with his back against her bed.

He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until the sudden obnoxious beeping of the girl's alarm clock nearly scared the shit out of him.

Then he was thwacked with her pillow again.

Kylie crouched, the pillow held at the ready. He hadn't moved when she hit him, and she wasn't sure what he was going to do.

Finally, he asked, "Are ya gonna turn that fuckin' thing off?"

"Are you going to not touch me?"

"I won't touch ya."

After a moment of hesitation, Kylie slipped off the bed and took the few steps to her dresser and shut off her alarm. Once it was quite, she felt the blonde's arm snake around her waist and he pulled her down into his lab.

"Hey, kitty-cat," he said with a grin. The girl struggled to get up, but Betelgeuse had his arms firmly wrapped around her, and she wasn't going anywhere. The ghost bent his head to lick the side of her neck, but he jerked back. He saw her look at him, just as confused as he felt. Something was wrong with the breather, and it took him a moment for figure it out.

"You're drugged," he said when it clicked.

"Yeah. They think I'm crazy." Then she yelped when he flicked open the top of her robe and placed his hand on her chest. "The hell you think—ow?" A burning chill spread to every part of her body, incinerating the drugs until there wasn't even the slightest trace of them left in her system. She was damn near panting, staring at his hand still on her chest. Then she looked back at him, but Betel couldn't read her expression.

"Better?" he asked her, but she bolted up and practically sprinted out of her room. "Yeah, yer welcome, Kitty."

After two days of perfect clarity, Kylie was more than ready to face her first day of school. So far, things had gone well. No one had tried to talk to her, and she hadn't tried to talk to them. Just the way she liked it. Kylie hated when people she thought were her friends found out she was crazy, so she just didn't bother making any. By the time lunch came along, she was blissfully alone.

Kylie grabbed an empty table and slipped into the hard plastic chair that seemed to be in every cafeteria in the entire world. She was happily munching on an apple slice when she heard them come up behind her.

"Like, you're in my chair?"

Dear Lord in Heaven. Even way out here they spoke Valley Girl.

She tilted her head back to see a tan blonde, her face one of pure disgust.

"Like, OMG! Are you, like, deaf or something? I said you're in my chair. That means you get your ugly ass out of it, and sit with the rest of losers."

Kylie blinked, not entirely sure if she should do what she was told or punch the bitch. Fortunately, she didn't have to choose because someone came to her rescue.

"Hey, Amanda, I think there's a zit on your nose. You should check that out." Her rescuer was a tall, lanky guy with jet black hair hanging adorably in his dark brown eyes. "Yeah," he continued, tapping the end of her nose with his finger. "Right there."

And like any other plastic, she was horrified at the idea of a zit on the end of her nose. So, with her sheep following her, Amanda hurried to the bathroom to check.

The guy grinned and winked at Kylie. "Don't worry about them. They're just jealous 'cause you're totally gorgeous. But we should high tail it outta here before they come back." He held out his arm, and Kylie stood linking hers with his. "By the way," he said, leading her out of the cafeteria, "my name's Byron."

"Hello, Byron. My name is Kylie."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~And here's another one~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**AN:** Sorry it's short, but I thought this was a good place to end it.


End file.
